


Something Off My Chest

by beckettemory



Category: NCIS
Genre: Coming Out, Families of Choice, Misgendering, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckettemory/pseuds/beckettemory
Summary: After one too many times being called a girl's name by Tony, McGee gives in and tells Tony exactly why it hurts him so much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for misgendering, deadnaming, hospitals, transphobia, and bullying; mentions of conversion therapy, needles, and food
> 
> McGee and Abby are written as queerplatonic partners but could be read as romantic if you really wanted to

It was no secret that Tony thought Tim was a wimp. 

It didn’t matter that he was a highly trained field agent in a federal agency, highly capable of using firearms, adept in hand-to-hand combat, and not completely terrified by Gibbs in most cases. None of that mattered at all. Tony still, after nearly ten years, thought it was funny to call McGee names and make a big deal whenever he showed any weakness whatsoever. 

Sure, he usually came through in the end, ready with some words of encouragement or sincere praise or even some rare sensitivity, so he wasn’t  _ all  _ bad. 

If only he could stop calling McGee girls’ names. 

It was all Tim could think about that Wednesday morning as he got ready for work, quickly downing a piece of toast and a container of cherry yogurt after spending way too long in the shower thinking about the day before. 

“Gee, thank you for your input, Priscilla,” Tony had said, that stupid look on his face he got when he was making fun of his teammates (usually him). “Maybe tomorrow leave your bra on the _next_ tightest setting? I think it’s a bit _too_ tight today and you’re having trouble thinking correctly.” The goofy grin had dropped off his face by the end of his tirade and he openly sneered at McGee across the room. In his defense, Tim’s suggestion to tail the suspect instead of apprehending him hadn’t been a good idea, and would probably get them all killed if they did it, but the insult had still stung. 

Tim had turned on his heel and left, ignoring Gibbs’s frustrated call after him as well as Ziva’s more sympathetic one. He’d gone straight to the lab and had hidden when Tony came down to look for him. Abby had covered for him, albeit speaking coldly to Tony as she said that McGee wasn’t there, because he’d told her everything and had been just getting to the part where he told her how frustrated he was when he heard the elevator ding. He had darted through the sliding door in the lab and to the far wall just as Tony rounded the corner. 

Half an hour later Gibbs had come down to look for him too, and McGee had come out of his frantic hiding spot sheepishly. He could hide from Tony just fine, but Gibbs would have found him in ten seconds flat if he’d kept hiding, and he hadn’t wanted to deal with that. 

“Sorry boss. I just hate it when Tony does that, I mean, it’s like he has no clue--” 

“McGee,” Gibbs had interrupted him, voice simultaneously impatient and compassionate. “Deal with it later. Corporal Haynes is here to talk about his husband.” 

Abby had hugged Tim and given him a sympathetic smile before he left, and he’d steeled himself to walk past Tony’s desk to the conference room. Tony had had the decency to stay quiet, though he still stared at McGee like he had overreacted. Tim had just walked past, pretending he wasn’t as hurt by Tony’s comments as he was. 

Now, already running late, he couldn’t stop fiddling with his shirt, tucking and untucking it and smoothing it so it laid more or less flat against his chest. He finally gave up and threw on a sweater over his shirt, which made his chest satisfactorily flat, or at least appear that way. He thanked a God he didn’t much believe in that it was winter and he could get away with it without overheating. He grabbed his jacket on his way out of the apartment and shrugged into it in his building’s elevator. 

At the office he barely walked in before Tony was snickering, and he tried to ignore it. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair and sat, starting up his computer. 

“I’ve seen that sweater before,” Tony said, tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness. 

“Tony,” Ziva warned, not looking up from her file at her desk. 

“What?” Tony asked, looking like the portrait of innocence. 

“Leave McGee alone,” she said, finally looking up to level a stare at Tony, as if daring him to defy her. 

Tony put up his hands in apparent surrender and went back to whatever he’d been doing before Tim arrived. Tim signed a thank you across the room at Ziva, who nodded and smiled. 

The elevator dinged and Gibbs came in, coffee in hand and jacket slung over his arm. 

“Morning, boss,” McGee said amicably, and Gibbs nodded at him. 

“Nice sweater, McGee,” he said, and Tim couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. 

“Thanks, boss,” he said anyway, but immediately regretted it when his voice cracked. 

“You know, McSqueaky, I just remembered where I’ve seen that sweater before,” Tony said, and Tim sighed and waited for it. “The last time I saw your sister, she was wearing it. Now, did you borrow hers or did you both buy one from Macy’s?” 

Tim closed his eyes and tried to stem the tide of dysphoria that washed over him. He heard Ziva hiss, “that is enough!” at Tony. 

“What? He looks nice,” Tony said. “Very Rory Gilmore.” 

That was it. McGee shoved away from his desk and stalked away. 

“Tony, elevator,” he commanded over his shoulder. 

Tony snickered, and followed him into the elevator. They had to wait a couple floors before the cab was empty, Tim frustrated and nervous and self-conscious, and finally they were alone and he flicked the emergency stop. 

“What’s on your mind, Tim?” Tony asked, having grown quiet since entering the elevator, and McGee had caught him sneaking glances at him a couple times. 

“You know why I hate it when you call me girls’ names and make fun of my voice cracking and stuff like that?” McGee asked, crossing his arms over his chest and staring ahead at the sliding doors. 

Tony was quiet for a few seconds. “No, not really,” he said finally. “I’m not trying to be mean, Tim, you know th--”

“Tony, I’m transgender,” McGee interrupted. 

In the stunned silence that followed McGee resisted the urge to look at Tony, to see if there was disgust or fear or cruel humor on his face. He waited, steadily growing more uneasy, his heart beating so hard he was sure Tony could hear it. 

“Oh,” Tony finally said, sounding chastised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--” 

“No, you didn’t,” McGee said, prompting another long silence. 

“So, should I call you…?” Tony trailed off uncomfortably. 

“Tim. It’s my legal name, Tony.” 

“So you’re not… really a man?” Tony asked, sounding thoroughly confused, and McGee winced. 

“I  _ am _ a man,” he insisted, hating how high and whiny his voice sounded. “That’s what I’m trying to say.” 

He sneaked a glance at Tony, who was frowning in confusion, eyes darting about unseeingly as he tried to fit the pieces together. 

“Look, Tony,” McGee said, snapping out of frustration and turning to fully face him. “It’s not that difficult. When I was born the doctors said ‘it’s a girl!’ and my parents gave me a girl’s name. They put me in pink and dresses and enrolled me in ballet. But that never fit. Then in high school I cut off all my hair and started wearing men’s clothes and my father transferred me to an all girl’s Catholic school to ‘fix’ me. In college I changed my name in secret using my own money and only told my sister and Penny. All my friends at school knew me only as Tim. I started hormones four months after my name change and I’m currently a month behind on testosterone injections because things around here have been so hectic I keep having to postpone my appointments. My father found out about the name and hormones and hasn’t spoken to me since 2004. Get it?” 

Tony watched him erupt with his mouth hanging open, and by the end he looked completely horrified. Tim gritted his teeth and realized that he was crying out of frustration. He turned away, mortified, pressing his sweater-clad arm to his mouth to stifle any embarrassing sounds that might escape him. 

_ Stupid, stupid _ , he scolded himself, but it didn’t completely feel like his own mental voice.  _ Bad idea, Rebecca. Now he thinks you’re a freak. _

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to erase all memory of his birth name, but it kept echoing in his head, louder and louder as Tony’s silence stretched ever longer. 

“I’m so sorry, Tim,” Tony said quietly behind him. 

It should have felt good, Tony using his chosen, real name knowing it wasn’t the name given to him at birth, but it didn’t. It felt fake, like Tony was emphasizing it, though he had just said it like he always did. 

“I know I haven’t been… particularly great about trans things in the past,” Tony admitted with difficulty, and Tim turned to look at him, hurriedly wiping his eyes. Tony was staring at his feet and his face was beet red. “I’m gonna try to be better, though.” 

McGee stayed quiet, not trusting his voice right now. 

“I know it had to be tough to tell me,” Tony said. “And I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to.” 

McGee let out a breath. “Don’t… don’t call me girls’ names anymore. Or make fun of my voice,” he added, trying to look unwaveringly at Tony. 

“I won’t,” Tony said, and he sounded sincere. 

“This sweater doesn’t really make me look like a girl, does it?” McGee asked uncertainly, looking down at the tan cable-knit pullover. “Please be honest. My chest binder hasn’t been laying as flat as I want it to lately and I’ve been...” he trailed off, realising Tony probably didn’t want to know about his chest.

“No, it doesn’t make you look like a girl. I was just trying to rile you up,” Tony admitted. 

“It worked,” Tim said, feeling stupid. 

Tony let out a chuckle. “I guess it did. No, it actually looks pretty good on you.” 

McGee smiled a little and wiped his face again. “Am I all red?” 

Tony shook his head, then considered. “Well, your ears are, but I’m guessing that’s a sunburn.” 

Tim flipped the emergency stop switch and they started moving again. 

Before anyone could get on, Tim sighed. “I know you’re gonna need to talk about this with someone. Abby, Gibbs, Ziva, and Ducky know.” 

He heard Tony make an indignant noise. “So I’m the last to find out?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Abby is my partner, Gibbs is my boss, and Ducky has seen me naked. And Ziva was supportive. But hey, Palmer and Fornell don’t know,” he said with a little smirk as the door opened and he stepped out. Tony made another frustrated noise and Ziva grinned wryly as Tim rounded the corner back into the bullpen. 

“Cat out of the bag?” Gibbs asked. 

“ _ Something’s _ out,” Tim said, admiring his own wordplay. 

“I take it he did not like being the last to know,” Ziva guessed. 

“You’ve met Tony, right? Tall, brown hair, obnoxious smile?” Tim asked, feeling much better than he had when he woke up that morning.

 

* * *

 

Tim took a deep breath. 

“You ready, Mr. McGee?” the nurse asked. 

He looked down at his chest and smiled. 34 years old and finally getting rid of his breasts. 

“It’s Special Agent McGee,” Abby corrected from his side. Tim smiled at her and she squeezed his hand. 

“ _ Very _ Special Agent McGee,” Tony corrected her, and Tim rolled his eyes. 

“Of course,” the nurse said with a smile. “ _ Very _ Special Agent McGee, are you ready?” 

“Yeah, I think I am,” he said, and his stomach fluttered nervously. 

“Alright then, let’s get you down to surgery.” 

Tim looked around at everyone; Abby and Gibbs on one side of his bed, Ziva, Ducky, and Tony on the other, Sarah and Penny at his feet. He hadn’t asked any of them to come, except Abby, but they’d all insisted. 

He transferred to the wheelchair the nurse had brought with her and then looked at the group around him nervously. 

“Guys,” he said seriously, and they all looked at him with some worry, except Gibbs, who looked like stone, as usual. “I have something to get off my chest.” 

They all looked expectantly at him for a second until Abby snorted and the others seemed to get it all at once and started laughing, except Ziva. Even Gibbs let out a chuckle. 

“I do not get it,” Tim heard Ziva murmur to Tony, and Tony leaned down a little to explain it quietly in her ear. Her face lit up. “Oh! Get it  _ off _ your  _ chest _ ! That is very clever, McGee.” 

McGee smiled and shook his head. 

“Special Agent McGee, time to go,” the nurse said, and his nerves fluttered again. 

He let out a breath. “Okay,” he said nervously. 

Ziva stepped forward and leaned down to hug him. “You will be fine.” 

He nodded. “Thanks, Ziva.” 

Penny stepped forward next, then Sarah, then Ducky, then Gibbs. Each either hugged him or shook his hand, and murmured something encouraging. 

When Tony stepped forward, McGee expected him to go for a handshake, but found himself getting a hug instead. 

“Thanks for not kicking me out when I showed up today,” Tony whispered. 

“I considered it,” McGee whispered back. 

Tony straightened up and punched his shoulder lightly. “Have fun in there, McManly.” 

Finally, Abby stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It’s gonna be great,” she whispered as she pulled him into a hug. He closed his eyes, feeling his nerves calm some. 

“I love you, Abbs,” he whispered. 

“I love you too. I’ll be waiting in recovery when you get out,” she reassured him as she pulled back, and he smiled. 

“You’re the best.”

“No,  _ you _ are,” Abby said, grinning widely. 

The nurse cleared her throat and he rolled his eyes slightly. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he said, waving nervously to the group as the nurse pushed him out of the room. 

“Who were all those people?” she asked. 

Tim smiled. “My family.”  _ In good times and bad _ . 


End file.
